Skater Boy
by TheFutureFreaksMeOut
Summary: AU. ShikamaruKiba. ... and for the first time in my life I wonder what it’d feel like to ride the world.


**Skater Boy**

I'm sitting on the bleachers, staring down at the concrete world before me; the sun's burning the back of my head. It's uncomfortable and I know my neck will be bright red tomorrow and it'll hurt, but I still can't leave. I'm transfixed or maybe just obsessed; sometimes I don't know the difference, and quite frankly I don't care. It's you and your shaggy hair, those baggy clothes, and that grin plastered across you face. I can't look away so I stare, and how I stare...

Sweat forms shiny little pearls on my face and I feel them trickle their way down my neck. I wipe them away without much effort because I know new ones will come. It's very warm today, like if it were summer even though technically it's still spring. Sweating disturbs me a little; it makes it harder to concentrate, to focus and now you're removing your hooded shirt. A swift glance of your flat stomach and suddenly the sun seems to burn a hundred or so degrees more. _I need water, I need oxygen…_

My brain's overcooking and I'm wondering, what I am doing? This can't be normal, can it? You make everything so graceful, so fluid, the way you ride your board. In my eyes it's almost magical. It's cheesy, I know, but somehow I don't care about that either. It's like eating or breathing -- not necessary as long as you're around.

And then you fall, and in less then half of a second I'm on my feet, the book that rested on my knee _(pretending I'm here for another reason than you) _lying forgotten on the step below me, open to page 132, where the hero says, "I love you, stay with me forever…" Absentmindedly, I make a mental note to never say something as stupid as that, and to return the book to the library as soon as possible without being seen with it.

My heart flutters worriedly and I push away a few loose strands of hair and try to see what happened. Are you hurt? But soon you're on your feet again, the knees of your jeans ripped and some dirt smudged across your left cheek, blurring the red tribal marks you have tattooed there. I wonder about those as a few words of yours flutter trough the heated, vibrant air and reaches my ears, something like "fuck yeah, guys did you see the height of that?" and your friends grin and nod. You high-five them and then you're at it again. I really like your voice, I decide, even though it's a little raspy and cracks here and there. It just makes it more special, you know in that _special, special _way and I sigh in that stupid way only a person that's in love does. But not even knowing that I actually act like that can disturb me in my brainless state of mind. I'm just completely, hopelessly all over you.

I reach for my book, my eyes never really leaving you. I turn a few pages and I think the hero's making sweet love to his bride now since I caught a word or two like love, caress, and kiss. But that, that's unreal; this here and now, this is real. Maybe it's not picture perfect, maybe it's not like in the movies, but they're feelings and they're more real then anything else I've ever felt. I can taste ash from somewhere in the air; I smell cigarette smoke, flowers, and something faint that might be myself. It's like I'm outside looking in, watching something change in me. I never thought I'd fall, and that I'd fall this hard, especially not for someone I barely knew. We share a few classes from time to time; you smile and talk to me, tease me about my hair. We're not _friends_, we don't hang out with the same people, listen to the same music, or even like the same things, but for some stupid reason or another you interest me, keep me occupied for more then a minute at time; you say smart things even though you usually play dumb, you care without caring too much, you walk the line between cool and un-cool much more smoothly than I do. You kick the balls when we have PE with force and it seems like you know your place in the world. I'd like to find my own. And I guess I've started to imagine that you can help me with that, someway or another.

You pet that white little fur ball of yours resting in the shade of one of the (to me) gigantic skateboard ramps; you make sure he's all right and he barks happily. I'm not amazed that I envy him. He gets your attention, he gets your touch. _He gets practically everything I want._

Someone presses play on the beat up old boom box I saw you bring and music that I don't know fills the air. You seem to like it, because you smile when you gain speed, flipping the board over and landing on your feet. You stumble and I hold my breath, scared you'll fall again, but no, you don't. You're to cool for that; one time you can take, but two times, that's for losers… like me, I guess, and for the first time in my life I wonder what it'd feel like to_ ride the world. _

The bench creaks beside me and I turn my head, at first feeling irritated for being disturbed, then just smiling to the well-known face before me. Best friends since kindergarten, sharing everything from napkins to those magazines you really shouldn't read at age thirteen. Yeah, I've done that too. I'm not as very special as people like to think I am and suddenly I blush. Chouji, because that's his name, that old friend of mine, smiles at me and cocks an eyebrow, and I know what he's thinking and as awaited he opens his mouth and says, "Sitting here again, Shikamaru? Nothing better to do?" Somehow he knows without me telling, but I guess I'm just a little bit obvious.

"Reading," I try, holding up my book, now realising how stupid it looks, all pink and girly. My blush extends further and I look away. This is so stupid.

"Yeah, right"… and I know he's grinning. I can hear it in his smooth voice. "Talk to him," is the next thing he says to me, offering me some chips from the brightly coloured bag of his. At first I'm tempted to decline; I really don't like the taste of barbecue chips. But my tummy tells me I haven't eaten since breakfast, so take a few chips out of the bag, shaking my head at him at the same time, the grease smearing on my fingers and the taste exploding in my mouth, killing away the taste from the burning far, far away.

Chouji looks at me with that look of a fat kid caught with his chubby hand in the middle of a cake. "I know I shouldn't," he says, sounding guilty, and I hate that tone in his voice. I like him the way he is, I don't mind, but I also know it hurts him when the other kids tease him. I offer a weak smile in return. There's always tomorrow, I think. We don't have to change today and I hope he knows it, too. It's never too late.

He munches quietly beside me and I lean backwards, resting on my elbows, tilting my head even further back. For a while, the world spins out of focus, but then I see clearly. The sky, the sun, and the clouds shaped like, yeah shaped like... and now I know what I have to do.

I'm already halfway done when I remember Chouji. Abruptly I turn around and almost fall, tripping on the edge of my too-long jeans. He looks at me with confused wrinkles in his face and something that I think looks like amusement.

"What?" he mouths at me, and I reply with a sense of sensation inside.

"I'm buying a skateboard. I'll learn how to ride." I can't hide the huge smile and the sparkles in my eyes. He just smiles back and shakes his head.

"I'll come with you," he finally says and rises to walk beside me the rest of the way down. I resist the urge to bounce, and when I look out over the skate park, I see you looking in our direction; you give a wave when you see me looking, and I wave back almost shyly, wondering… and yeah, hoping.

_Got nothing to loose this time,_

_and I'm bored with the same old lines._

_I never know what to do or what to say to you._

_one look and you'll knock me out._

_You put me on the floor with a ten count,_

_I don't wanna make a scene, I gotta make you see…_

_that I've been waiting for a girl like you,_

_and I know there's nothing I could do._

**I'm A Fool – American HiFi**

Written during two and half-hours constant listening to American HiFi and being bored, and yeah, I happen to like being cheesy. Uh, and it's a little inspired by seeing the new episode of Naruto, Shikamaru made me all nostalgic and my fangirly heart started to beat again. Not especially hard, but it's definitively there, and it is love.

**Junsui Kegasu**was really sweet and beta-read this for me. Thank you, Rosie!


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